Rememberance
by Kassaremidybelljesslynn
Summary: Everyone deals with grief in different ways. They get drunk, self-destruct, cry, yell & more. What does everyone have in common? They find the strenght to move on. So watch as old and new characters find the strength in themselves to move on & accept life
1. Fred: I'll Never Really Get Over Him

Remembrance

Chapter 1: Fred: I'll Never Really Get Over Him

Summary: Pretty self-explanatory. George remembering Fred. Any more would ruin the plot.

* * *

"One more."

Fill the glass.

"One more."

Fill the glass.

"One more."

Fill the glass.

"George?" a voice asked. Percy.

"What?"

"Please come-"

"No."

"George!"

"If you're going to bug me, than have a bloomin' drink, will you?" he snarled. Percy sat down. The bartender placed a drink in front of him and he took a sip.

"George. You can't live like this," he said.

"I'll live however I want. I'm a big kid now, I can take care of myself," he said after downing a whole glass of fire whiskey. "More."

"Look, Fred's death-"

"Don't preach to me about Fred's death. Yeah, you were there, I'll give you that much. But you have no clue how I feel. You're boring me. Now go home and polish your stupid Head Boy badge," George cut in. He turned away from Percy, back to his drink.

Percy continued to talk, but knew it was hopeless. Fred's death hit all of them hard, but nobody hurt more than George.

* * *

"One more."

Fill the glass.

"One more."

Fill the glass.

"One more."

Fill the glass.

"Haven't you had enough to drink, sir?" the bartender asked.

"No."

"Fine," the bartender said. Glass was filled again.

"Anything stronger?" he asked.

Hesitation. Then, "No, sorry."

Liar. George looked into the face of the bartender. She looks familiar…I know her…

"Did you go to Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Yes George, I went to Hogwarts. Or in case you forgot," the voice said, sounding annoyed. He knew that annoyed look. It had been directed at him in numerous cases. It was…

"Angelina?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Haven't seen you in forever," he noted.

"You're not the only one who has lost people in this stupid war," she said.

"How did you know?"

"Why else would you be here drinking? The other bartender moved so he quit the job. But he told me that you were here every day, almost all night," she said. "So I'm guessing it was one of your siblings. Ginny or Fred?" she asked.

"Fred." He flinched. It hurt just to say his twin's name.

"I'm sorry."

"You're not the one who killed him. Why should you be sorry?" he asked her.

"Good point."

"More." He was answered with an icy glare. "Please." She poured another glassful. He downed it in one gulp. He looked around to see if any of his siblings were there to bother him yet. The room spun. "How many have I had?" he asked.

"That would be eleven," she said. He groaned.

"I didn't want to have a hangover tomorrow. I promised Ron I'd open," he muttered.

"Your joke shop still going strong?" she asked.

"Yup. People want to play pranks, it distracts from the pain," he said.

"Or people go out and get drunk every night. That helps too, or so I'm told," she said, smiling. He gave her a look.

"No actually, it doesn't." He remembered what she had said.

"Who'd you lose?"

"Alicia." He flinched again. He liked Alicia. She was kind, and a damn good Quidditch player from what he remembered.

"Did you catch the killer?" he asked.

"Well, technically, there was no killer," she said. George raised an eyebrow. "She was caught in one of the Death Eater riots after the battle. Those bastards tortured her for fun. Neville and usually go together. He sees his parents and I see Alicia." Her voice cracked. She took a shuddering breath, trying not to cry. At least she'll see Alicia. George will never see Fred again.

"How do you deal?" he asked.

The question didn't take her by surprise. Angelina had a hunch that he wanted to know that there was one person who found a way to go on. He needed hope.

"Life goes on. I'm thankful I made it out alive. I talk about her. To Oliver and Katie. I've been trying to find you and your brother. I wanted to get the team back together. Just for old times sake. We could talk, make fun of Oliver, help each other with all this crap, and make fun of Oliver some more," she said. He laughed.

"Not such a bad idea," he said. "More please."

"Sorry, we're out."

"How does a bar run out of fire whiskey?" George asked.

"Why doesn't the king of humor laugh anymore?" she asked.

"I wasn't king of humor. That was Fred."

"I always thought you were funnier," she said. She placed her hand on his. He smiled at her.

Sitting there, with one of his best mates, the only girl he'd ever met who could drive him crazy yet make his day with a simple smile, he realized something.

Things would never go back to the way they were. He'd always be a bit different; he'd never get over his brother's death.

But things would get better, eventually, for one simple reason:

He would embrace his future, but remember his past and his brother.

* * *

Yes, I know, it's corny. But you know what?!...yeah, it's corny. I'm not going to deny it. Most of them are, but I like them anyway. So???????? Too corny? Not corny enough?


	2. Colin: Just A Few More Tears

Remembrance

Chapter 2: Colin: Just A Few More Tears

Summary: Dennis remembering Colin and Oliver trying to help him cope and maybe find forgiveness as well. I know, weird summary, but I'm tired.

* * *

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

Eight-

There's another. Nine.

Nine tears that fell this time. You'd think he'd have been cried out by now. He'd cried so much over the past month; you'd think there'd be no more tears left. But there were.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

Three more. Dennis wished they would stop. He tried to not think about his brother. That never worked. One minute, he was goofing around with Orla, Kevin, and Natalie, and then they'd pass the park he and Colin would go to all the time, or pass the restaurant that they were in when Colin got his letter, and the crying would start over again.

Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen.

Dennis leaned back against the tree. It was sunny, which was unusual in his town. The tree was the only protection he had from the blazing sun.

Colin was so strict about sun block. "Don't want my baby brother dying from skin cancer. That's all we'd need. He was a wizard. Could do anything except put on sun-block!" Colin would always say.

Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two.

It used to bother Dennis. Now all he wanted was to hear Colin yell at him to put on his sun block. But that would never happen again.

Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Twenty-four.

The tears came rushing out and Dennis lost track. Damn. I'll have to start over. He laid his head on his knees. Make them stop. Please. I'd do anything to make them stop. I don't want to cry anymore. I want it all to go away. He got up and ran. Screw sun block. Screw shade. He just needed to run.

"Wait up!" a voice yelled. Dennis ignored it. Probably wasn't talking to him anyway.

"OI! Creevey kid! Wait up!" Dennis stopped. He turned around to see a lanky guy walking over. Do I know him? Dennis didn't think he did. He didn't even think Colin knew him.

One. Two. Three. Four.

The man was too old. He looked in his early-twenties. What did he want with Dennis?  
"Who are you?" Dennis asked.

"Oliver Wood."

"Hey, you play for Puddlemore United, the Quidditch team, don't you?" Dennis asked.

"Yeah, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about," Oliver said, running a hand through his hair. "I…wanted to know if you were alright."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I heard about your brother. Actually, I was there. I saw it happen," Oliver said.

Dennis froze. He expected tears to come, but none came. Probably ran out. Oliver kept talking.

"I saw Macnair go for him. I remembered him from my 6th year. He was always snapping pictures of Harry. Bit annoying, but a good kid," Oliver said. Dennis smiled. That sounded like Colin.

"Anyway, I ran at Macnair. I…wasn't fast enough. He took your brother down and I…I was too late. Tried to chase after him, but I couldn't leave your brother. Neville came and got him, but I took him. I just felt…I had to watch him. I remembered he had a brother, you. I have a little sister. I don't know how she'd react if she would have thought I was dead. I took Colin and…" Oliver stopped. He looked at Dennis. The kid just stared. Oliver met him, in passing once. He seemed just as overly happy as his brother, yet the eyes that stared back…nothing was there. It was eerie.

"I just wanted to say…I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I should have been able to get there. I should have…but I didn't. I'm sorry. I guess…I'll go," Oliver said. He walked away. Why had he come? It wasn't like Dennis needed to be reminded that his brother was dead.

Oliver stopped. He heard something. A…sniffling? He turned around to see Dennis, curled on the sidewalk, sobs racking through his tiny body. He looked so fragile. Oliver ran over.

To do what? How was he supposed to help the kid? He'd never lost anyone. Well…Fred. But he wasn't close to Fred. Wasn't close to anyone. He pushed people away. He didn't want to get into a relationship because in his mind Quidditch always came first. He knew Katie Bell had a bit of a crush on him, and he liked her. But he couldn't like her. Quidditch came first. How was he supposed to help this kid?

He crouched down next to Dennis. Dennis leaned in.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

Oh bugger. Too many tears. He couldn't think. Colin's face flooded his mind. I have to…Colin…save him…he gasped for air. I'm choking…I'm drowning…the sun…too hot…I need sun block!

"I'm sorry," Oliver whispered into Dennis's hair. He put his arm around the kid.

"You tried."

"I wish…"

"If the world worked on wishes, then there would be a lot more lottery winners," Dennis said. His friend Natalie liked saying that.

Dennis finally calmed down. He looked up at Oliver.

"Do you want to see his grave?" Dennis asked. "I haven't been yet, but I'd go if you went," Dennis offered. Oliver nodded.

"We both need that."

They got up, and Dennis clung to Oliver's arm, leading him towards the cemetery. They both felt something.

For Oliver, it was relief. He had been forgiven. He could move on.

For Dennis…it was more complicated. But he knew in that moment that Colin would kill him if he were alive for moping. So Dennis would move on. He knew what he wanted to be when it came time to pick a career.

A photographer. Just like his brother.

* * *

I heard that quote somewhere, but i forget where. You know, if the world worked on wishes. If anyone knows, tell me, because this is really bothering me that I can't remember.

Did you like it? I liked this chapter a lot. I'm a baby and I cried while I was writing it. DId i make you cry? That would be awesome, to have the writing skills to make someone cry...I could really use that in life...anyway...

So, just, tell me if you like it and ignore the sentence before. It was random.


	3. Dobby: Dobby was a Domnoddy

Remembrance

Chapter 3: Dobby: Dobby Was A Domnoddy

Summary: Dobby's death and how the house-elves deal with it. Tried to stay true to them as well as I could, and gave them my own layers as well.

NOTE: Many of you are probably teasing me for doing this chapter, but I love Dobby! And I like this chapter a lot. It's corny without the cheese factor (the last chapter was on the cheesier side). So I hope ya'll like this one. Not that I know if you like it...none of you have told me or anything. I'd even accept flames (just not too hot please, I bruise like a peach). PLEASE? Anyone?

* * *

"Winky? Is you okay?" a voice asked. Winky didn't need to see who it was. Winky knew the voice well since the voice had been saying a lot lately.

"Why is you always asking that Kreacher?" Wink snapped.

"Kreacher doesn't think Winky is okay. Kreacher thinks Winky is hiding something but Kreacher doesn't know what," Kreacher said to her. Kreacher tried not to lose his temper. After all she had just found out that the closest thing Winky had to a friend was dead. Kreacher still felt mad. Kreacher had lost many Masters and Mistresses and you didn't see Kreacher moping about, oh no! Kreacher was helping people. Kreacher got food, mended clothes, tended to wounds, and helped locate loved ones. Why couldn't Winky?

"Well, maybe Kreacher isn't as smart as he thinks he is, hmm?" Winky shot at Kreacher. Kreacher heaved a sigh, but let it go…for now.

Winky picked up yet another Butterbeer. Winky couldn't understand why she was so sad. Winky had gotten over Mr. Crouch Sr. and Jr.'s deaths a long time ago. So why was Winky sad? She didn't know.

"Kreacher? Kreacher, are you in here?" another voice called. This one was human. Winky knew it but couldn't place it.

"Kreacher just left Ma'am," Winky said. She hiccupped then turned around to face the human. It was the annoying Muggle born girl….Hermione.

"Oh. Well if you see him tell him that we located Justin Finch-Flenchy so he doesn't need to worry about him," Hermione said. Winky nodded then sat back down and resumed her drinking. "Winky? Are you okay?"

"Winky is fine. Just fine," Winky answered.

"No, Wink is not fine," Kreacher said. Hermione jumped.

"Oh, there you are! What's wrong with Winky?" Hermione asked.

"Kreacher thinks that Winky is missing Dobby but Winky won't admit it," Kreacher told her.

"Oh Winky!" Hermione cried. She kneeled down next to Winky.

"Winky is not sad! Kreacher is just making up lies!" Winky yelled, glaring at Kreacher. Kreacher smirked.

"Then why are you drinking Winky? When you drank before you were sad because of-"

"Winky is not sad!" Winky yelled. She covered her mouth and her eyes grew wide. "I'm sorry Miss. Winky should not be yelling at you so!" Winky started to look around. Hermione, seeing the signs from Dobby, grabbed Winky's arms so she couldn't start banging herself with anything.

"Winky, listen to me. It's okay to be sad that a friend died. It's called being human," Hermione explained.

"But Winky isn't human! Winky is a house elf. Winky should be taking care of everybody, or at least cooking the humans something for eating! Winky shouldn't be sad!" Winky protested. The little house elf tried in vain to get away from Hermione.

"Kreacher is sad sometimes," Kreacher said, finally speaking up. The two females looked at Kreacher in shock. "Kreacher misses his Mistress Bella sometimes, even if Kreacher knows Mistress Bella is bad. House elves is sad too Winky, we just better at hiding it than humans is all," Kreacher explained. Hermione was the first to recover from the shock of Kreacher's confession, looked back at Winky.

"You see? It's okay."

"NO! It's not!" Winky yelled. She finally managed to get her hands free. Winky started to pace. "Dobby was annoying. Dobby was always trying to get Winky to work, and be happy. He tried to get Winky paid! Winky doesn't want pay! Dobby was so odd! Winky never understood his obsession with getting paid! House elves is supposed to work for free! We love what we do! Dobby was…Dobby was…" Winky trailed off.

"Dobby was a domnoddy," Kreacher said matter-of-factly. Hermione shot him a look. "Cannot deny facts Miss Granger," Kreacher defended himself. "Dobby was a domnoddy but one think Kreacher always liked was that Dobby did his work. He did it well too. Kreacher hated Dobby when he was alive, did not like him one bit! But Kreacher wanted to work as well as Dobby. Now…Kreacher wishes he would've talked to Dobby," Kreacher said. Winky flopped down next to Kreacher and put on a pouty face.

"Dobby…Winky…Winky misses Dobby," Winky finally said. She started sobbing and reached around. She came to Kreacher's clothes and blew her nose in them. Kreacher put a hand around her, comforting her while trying not to shake her off for blowing her nose in the new clothes he had knitted for himself.

"There there. Don't you feel better Winky?" Hermione asked.

"Maybe a little," Winky said.

"Now, what would make you feel better?" Hermione asked.

"Well…Winky would like to cook," Winky mumbled. Hermione nodded.

"Well, then I'll be off. Kreacher, we found Justin Finch-Flenchy and everyone seems to love your sandwiches. So if you could make those for a snack before supper?" Hermione recounted.

"Of course Miss," Kreacher said, bowing. Winky bowed as well. Hermione left.

"Kreacher? Can Winky tells you something?"

"What's wrong?"

"Truthfully, Winky just wanted the girl out of here. She annoys Winky. Is that wrong?" Winky asked him.

"Not at all. Although Miss Hermione is nice to Kreacher, sometimes Kreacher wants her to go away. 'Specially when she starts on about that spew thing!" Kreacher told Winky.

They laughed together. On some level they knew this was what Dobby was trying to achieve. Not every elf getting paid, but elves getting along and being able to speak freely. Winky knew it was what Dobby wanted. So she rambled on and on about absolutely nothing at all. She just talked and talked.

And Kreacher listened.

* * *

YAY! I liked this. SO? You know what I'm going to ask, so I'm not going to ask it.


End file.
